


Infil - Exfil

by minou_demimonde



Category: Hawaii Five-0 (2010)
Genre: M/M, PTSD, War
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-06-26
Updated: 2013-09-01
Packaged: 2017-12-16 06:12:30
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 3
Words: 9,530
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/858771
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/minou_demimonde/pseuds/minou_demimonde
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>"You don't understand. It's not the same," Steve says. </p><p>Steve needs to talk about his experiences with his fellow SEALs. Danny doesn't understand why. To his horror, Steve shows him.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Understanding

**Author's Note:**

  * For [Tkeyla](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Tkeyla/gifts), [kaige68](https://archiveofourown.org/users/kaige68/gifts), [haldoor](https://archiveofourown.org/users/haldoor/gifts).



> Warning: There are somewhat graphic descriptions of violence and death in this fiction. The events described are very real, and disturbing and may be too much for some people. I have stayed away from any descriptions of actual murder, though there are a few killings (and yes, there is a difference as becomes very clear). I have tried to keep to the emotion instead of detailed descriptions.
> 
> But be careful. This is not for everyone.

The doors are too small. He has to duck into the darkened house. There's broken furniture, and the stairs are narrow and steep. There is no railing. He walks through the house and goes out the back door. There is a narrow staircase that heads up to the roof. In the distance, there is gunfire. And as he steps out onto the roof, there is a ping, like the sound of a dime hitting the floor, and a small chunk of adobe leaps out towards him. He ducks it easily, and laughs. "These motherfuckers can't aim worth a damn." There is a man in front of him. He turns briefly and nods, then looks back over the balcony. "Never could, LT. Never could."

 He nods, then looks carefully out over the balcony himself. In the distance, there is a spot of black against the green, but it disappears immediately behind a wall.

 "Dug in deep isn't he?"

"Yep." The other man doesn't look back, but points in the direct of the spot. "We figure there are at least three of 'em back there, behind that fence. We got a couple of the bastards a few minutes ago, but there's been at least three tracers since then. Don't know how many are behind them."

He nods, "Ok. You call in air support?"

 "Nah. They're tied up over at Daneb Passat. There's something going on with the Marines over there. We're on our own for a while."

He nods again, and takes a careful peek over the balcony. Immediately there are more dimes dropping on the floor, and pieces of chunks of adobe fly. Again, he ducks easily. A gun lifts into his sight, and points at the black spot in the distance. There is the sound of bullets flying, and the gun jerks with each one. The black spot falls, and doesn't get up.

 "Nice shooting, Tex," one of the other men says. "Wanna see if you can get them all?"

"No. I think I'll leave that for you guys. Has anybody cleared the place?" He tips his head, indicating the rest of the village.

"Mostly. We were heading that way when we got caught up in this shit fest." 

"K. We'll take it." He turns and begins to make his way down the narrow stairs, one hand on the wall to steady himself.

"Thanks LT," comes from behind him, and he nods as he gets to the bottom of the stairs. "NP, take care of those guys, right?"

 

_"You don't understand, Danny. It isn't the same."_

_"I know it isn't the same, Steve. I'm just telling you that I've been in some tight spots, myself." Danny reaches out and gently takes hold of Steve's arm. "You can talk to me. I might be able to understand more than you think."_

_Steve gently squeezes Danny's hand, acknowledging the concern even while he dismisses it. "No, Danny. No matter what you think, there is no way you can understand this.  And it isn't because you're not smart enough to. And it isn't because I don't wish I could talk to you. I just can't. I have to talk to people who were there, Danny. They're the only ones who know. They're the only ones who can."_

_Danny takes a deep breath and sits down heavily on the couch. "I just hate it that you can't come to me."_

_Steve sits next to him and puts and arm around his shoulders. "Me too."_

  

He goes back through the house and out the front door again. If that's what you call it. It's the opening that leads to the walkway, instead of into a small enclave.  When he looks down to get his footing, you can see that there were once paving stones of a sort, but that they've been trodden into the mud for so long that you can barely see anything left of them. Either that, or they've just been worn away under centuries of feet stepping on them.

When he goes through the gate and down the small incline, he passes several other men, each dressed in green and brown camo, with helmets on their heads. Each helmet has a camera. The flags on their sleeves are pointed backwards, with the stars facing their chests instead of their backs. It looks odd. There are other patches, too. One has "ISAF" and some kind of arabic written below it. There is another patch above the flag, it features a stylized skull with long teeth. It isn't pretty.

One of the men has a bright red NYPD patch that glares against the dull colors of his combat BDUs. He smiles when he looks up, "Hey LT, anything interesting here?"

"Yeah, we've got to clear this place. They got started, but they got caught in a spat with the locals over the fence. You take your team over to the left and see what you can find. There's bound to be fuglies over there, so be careful, got it?'

"Aye, sir." The man looks back, "You got it." The four men behind him nod and follow him down the path.

He walks down the incline to the base of the hill, then turns sharply into another one of those short doorways. There is a sharp darkness that descends, and it's almost dizzying in it's suddenness. But then there is light again, almost too bright, actually, and he steps through a second doorway into another path. It wouldn't do to call them streets, because they aren't. They're not even big enough to call alleys. There is a constant sound of gunfire in the background. He doesn't seem to notice it.

He comes to a wider path between the buildings, and it's obvious that this is what passes for a street. There is a field across the way. It's startlingly green against the dull beige adobe. There are trees and they are glorious in their early spring finery. The grass is tender, sweet, and his boots sink into it and crush it underfoot. It doesn't spring back.

There are three men waiting for him on the other side of the field. They are dressed like the others, though they have a slightly different patch on their sleeve. There is a red crosshair on the left eye of the skull. One of them looks up, "What do we have, LT?"

"Village to clear. I don't think that the place is occupied. Feels like a ghost town. But we have to be sure." They nod, and when he turns, you can hear them behind him.

"What do you think happened, LT?"

He steps carefully over a lintel into a courtyard. "I think that these shitheads came through here a couple of hours before we got here, and blew the place. I think that anybody who didn't get the hell out of Dodge ate some steel."

"Shit, Sucks to be them."

"You know it." He nods, and the camera tilts sickeningly for a moment. Then his gait becomes smooth again. There is a small series of buildings up ahead. He points to one of them. "JT, you and Workman take that one. Brian, you're with me." Two of the men walk past him. One is his height, lithely muscled and solid. The other is even taller, and has a runner's build. But as he passes, it's easy to see that he's just plain a big man. "JT, where's Johnny D?"

The second man looks back. The sun glares off his ballistic shades, making it hard to see for a moment. Then he tips his head just right and it's ok. "Down the path, looking for squirters. You want them up here?"

 A quiet moment, then "Nah. It's better he does that. We can call them if we need to." JT nods, and he and Workman head off into the building.  "You with me, Bri?"

"You got it, LT," comes from behind him. The voice is deep and resonate. Quiet.

He turns and moves into the second building, lowering himself easily over the lintel. Then through the darkness again. "Man, they did a job on this place."

The darkness fades as they come to a hole in the wall. There is furniture everywhere. It's broken, and there are bullet holes everywhere. One of the pieces is a crib. The cushions are strewn about, and the stuffing is shredded here and there. There is blood on the cushions and the wall behind them, an arc of death sprayed willy nilly here and there.

"Shit man, you think?" Brian's voice is steady. Not even really questioning.

"Yep. I think."

Around the corner is the first body.

 

_Danny leans against Steve's shoulder. "You could talk to me. I might not understand, but you could at least talk to me."_

_Steve leans down and kisses his forehead, then down to his mouth. The kisses are gentle, soft. Sweet._

_"Danno, I…Ok. Let me figure out how I can do this. It isn't easy. You know that."_

_Danny takes his face in his hands and kisses him, then nuzzles his nose. "I do know."_

_"I'll come up with something. I'll figure something out."_

 

The sound of gunfire intensifies, and he looks up sharply. "Sounds like the Tali Boys have got some backup."

Brain says, "Not a real surprise," from the next doorway over.

"Nope. You got anything?"

"Yeah, couple of bangers. Double tap."

He nods, and turns and looks around the corner where Brian is. On the floor, there are two bodies. A man, and a younger boy, maybe 17 or so. They've both been shot through the chest and head. The blood is tacky around their bodies. Their eyes are sightless and faded. Nothing to see there.

You check upstairs?"

"No. Checking out the kitchen. It's clear."

"Ok," he begins climbing the narrow, almost dangerous staircase to the left, "I've got it.

He steps into a small set of rooms. The furniture, such as it was, is in a heap. More blood on the floor. He steps over it. The rooms are empty. Aside from a hole in the wall, there is nothing to see.

"Man, I would not want to be the one who had to chew out those barrel holes," He says as he carefully descends the stairs."

"Me neither. They're, what do you think, three feet through?" He points to the wall, where the light filters through the hole.

"Yeah. Three. Sounds right." He turns and heads out the door.

They go towards the next house. There is a woman's body in the doorway. Her face is a rictus of terror and grief beneath her torn and bloody burkha. He gives her a cursory look, then steps over her, but carefully. "What do you think, maybe three hours ago?"

"Yeah," Brian says, just behind him. "At the most. Sonsabitches took out the whole village, I bet. Anybody who got out didn't get far."

He nods, "Yeah, probably not," he mutters, but he's got other things to look at. The camera swings towards the back doorway. "Gonna check things out, ok? You got the rest of the house?"

"Yep. Got it, LT." Brian's voice fades behind him as he steps out the back door and climbs the stairs to the rooftop. Though he's further away, you can still see the black spots quite well. As the camera adjusts, one of them resolves into a man. Another is more difficult to see, because it is hiding behind the first. There is the sharp sound of gunfire, easier to hear up here.

He turns his head and looks down. "Hey, Brian! There's a tunnel here! What do you bet it leads over to behind that wall?"

Brian comes up the stairs and looks over. "I bet it does indeed. Wanna go see?"

"I do indeed." There is a sound of satisfaction in his voice, like a puzzle has been solved to his best advantage.

They climb down the stairs and back through the house. Then they look around a bit until he finds the entrance to the tunnels There are a couple of bodies in the entryway. There is a small rivulet of blood that he can't help but step in. "I hate that," he mutters, mostly to himself. And then continues on down the tunnel.

The tunnel is open, no roof. But it's quite deep and he can walk down it easily without having to duck. Brian comes behind, his footsteps shuffling through the dust. They pass several more bodies. Some of them are younger boys, and a couple of young girls beside them. They are holding hands. He looks away.

The tunnel leads beyond the village and down a path. "Want to bet this was a cow path a few years ago?" Brian says.

"Not bet required there."

There's a bend in the tunnel, and then the sound of gunfire becomes immediate.

 

_That evening Steve goes out for a few drinks with his friends from Pearl. They were in his squadron, whatever that was, and he's not going to be back for a long time. Danny walks into the kitchen and opens the fridge. Nothing seems to beckon to him, so he get gets a beer and heads into the living room. Maybe there a game on._

_On the table by the lamp is a disc. There's a sticky on it. "Danno," it reads in Steve's kind of angular handwriting. "This is the only way I can think of to tell you about it. Unless you've seen it, you really don't understand. This is a short bit of helmet cam video. Nothing too exciting, just a firefight in Parslan Mabib. April 10, 2005. Watch it and see if you really want to know the bad stuff."_

_He sits down and puts the disk into the DVD player. The color is crisp. The video is clearer than he expected. The voice, when the camera's wearer speaks, is Steve's._

 

There are five men behind the wall around the corner of the tunnel. They are heavily armed, and it's obvious that they have been taking turns shooting of the other SEALs. Steve takes a look at them, then steps back. He hunkers down next to Brian. "Shooting fish in a pickle barrel. On three." 

Brian nods and lifts his gun expectantly. Steve counts quietly, "one, two, three". On there they both turn the corner and begin shooting. It's quick, and easy. Where there were five men, there are now five bodies. Nothing to it.

Then there's a shout, "Got a squirter!"

They run down the tunnel, lithely jumping over the bodies. They can see him, but he's too far ahead. "I got him!" One of the other SEALs is close at hand, and they can see him up ahead. He takes a bead on the runner, and pulls the trigger. The man falls. But before he does, he, too, pulls the trigger. Suddenly there is blood everywhere, from both men. The runner is dead. The SEAL falls ahead of him, blood pouring from his stomach and thigh. "Ah shit. Shoulda known that would happen," he says, reaching into a picket of his pack and pulling out a bandage. He slaps the bandage on his stomach and then lifts himself up to look at his thigh. "LT, you got a tourniquet on you?" Steve races to him, and reaches back. When he brings his hand out again, there's a strange looking bandage in it with a draw string of sorts. He hits his knees and begins wrapping it around the wounded man's thigh.

"Bri, get a helo!"

"Already on the way, LT."

"Good. How far?"

"Just a second."

Brian is speaking in the background. Steve's breathing is harsh in the microphone. The other man is starting to pale visibly. "You ain't going nowhere Chief. You gotta stick around so I can tan your ass for getting shot that easily."

The man laughs, "Yeah, well we'll have to see about that."

Steve wraps the bandage tightly around his thigh and tightens the whole thing. "Got it," he says. "Bri, what's the sitrep on that helo?"

"Three minutes out, LT. Bottom of the hill."

"Good. Let's go."

Brian comes up beside him and between the two of them, they get the wounded man up and begin to walk back towards the village with him. When Steve looks down, he can see that the bandage on his stomach is failing. There's blood beginning to drop from it. But he does nothing. Says nothing. He does look over at Brian, who looks back and nods slightly.

They begin to run down the tunnel, dragging the man with them. It becomes apparent that he has become dead weight. Steve grunts under his weight a bit, but doesn't slow.

They come out of the tunnel and drag him over the bodies. His legs catch on one of them and Steve pulls hard, looking back. "Dammit. Fucker's stuck. Pull."

Brian nods, "Got it." Between the two of them, they pull his legs free, and continue on, pell mell down the path towards the hill. When they get to the base of the hill, they lay him down on the ground. Steve kneels beside him. "Chief! Chief, you gotta open your eyes."

Nothing.

He slaps the man, hard. "Chief, dammit open your eyes."

He looks down. There is blood everywhere. The bandage has fallen off and the wound is displayed horribly bright. "Shit," Steve says, "hit his stomach. Where's that fucking helo?"

Brian speaks softly behind him, "Over there, LT." 

Steve looks up. There, in the perfectly blue sky is a helo, coming in fast. There is a black and white cross on the side. It drops fast, landing almost precipitously. Two men spill out. "Got him," they shout over the rotors' roar. Steve and Brian lift the Chief up into their arms. "Bullet to the stomach," Steve yells. Tourniquet on his thigh!" The men nod, and drag their patient into the helo. Then it's gone.

Steve straightens and looks at his gloves. They're covered in blood. He wipes them on his thighs.

Something over to the right catches his attention, and he looks.

There in the trees lies a young woman with a baby in her arms. They've both fallen in an attitude of graceful flight. The back of her head is gone. The baby has been shot through the forehead, one dreadful, deadly black and red hole in a beautiful, innocent face.

"Shit,' Steve says. "Just…fuckers."

"You got that right," Brian says from beside him.

There is more gunfire in the distance. "Sounds like the cavalry arrived too late for their friends." Brian notes, tilting his head up the hill.

"Yeah," Steve grunts. Then he reaches up to his head and pushes on something. "Tango 9, this is Blackhawks actual. Do you copy?"

A tinny voice comes from just below the camera. "Blackhawks actual, this is Tango 9. Copy."

"We need a boomer here. Got it?"

"Copy that. One boomer coming up. Please send me required coordinates." 

Steve looks down and grabs something from his pack. It's a small rectangle, like an iPod, except when he presses the button, the green screen has numbers on it that he reads over the comm. Moments later, there is a roar in the sky and he looks up. A beautiful, deadly bird flies overhead. Shortly thereafter, there is an enormous explosion about a half a mile away. The gunfire stops suddenly. The plane moves on.

"Blackhawks actual, coming around for another pass."

"Check. Good copy." Steve doesn't move, but he looks at Brian. "Gonna drop another one." 

Brian nods. "Good. It's the only way to be sure."

Steve laughs, "You bastard. I knew you were up watching that last night. I knew it."

Brian laughs and shrugs. "What can I say. Couldn't sleep."

"I got that," Steve looks up again as the beautiful, deadly plane circles around. "I got that."

Moments later there is another explosion in the near distance. Then, "Blackhawks actual, I'm going to stick around for a bit to make sure you guys don't need anything else, check?"

"Copy that," Steve says. "Well, let's get this done. I'm hungry."

But the camera lingers for just a moment on the mother and child, laying in the soft grass, their life blood painting it red amongst the green. "I'm gonna just close their eyes," Steve says. "Baby shouldn't have it's eyes open like that."

 

 _That last comment hits Danny like a rock. "Well, let's get this done. I'm hungry." As though he hadn't just seen one of his comrades nearly die. Seen the blood all over his hands . Hadn't just wiped that blood onto his thighs. Hadn't seen...If Steve could just let those things go. If what Danny had just seen was only a very small part of one day...How much had Steve seen? If this wasn't the_ bad _stuff, what was?_

 _The enormity of what Steve had been through hit him. To do this day in and day out for years. To see your friends die in horrible ways--and yes, he recognized some of the men in the video. Knew that they were dead. Knew how they had died. To see all this. To live with the impending death all around you. For years._ Years _._

_Years_

_The tears stream down Danny's face. The images cease and the screen goes blue, indicating the end of the video. It's a relief. A gift. He's so grateful that it's over. He doesn't' even notice the sobs wracking his body until warm arms warp around him. "Hey. Hey, Danno. It's ok, I'm here. I've got you."_

_Steve is there, holding him gently close. For a long time, Danny cries, his horror and grief pouring out onto Steve's shoulder. FInally, he looks up. Steve has a tissue in his hand and he offers it like a benediction. Danny takes it and wipes his face and blows his nose._

_"What're you doing back to soon?" He tries to pull himself together a bit. He can't look at Steve's face. Not yet. So he focuses on the gold ring circling his finger. He reaches out and takes Steve's hand and brings it up and kisses the ring and the finger. Then he holds Steve's hand against his face for a moment. Finally, he settles into Steve's arms again._

_"What do you mean so soon? I've been gone for hours. Oh man, you watched all of it didn't you?"_

_Danny nods, unable to speak for a moment. Then, softly, "You were right. It isn't the same."_

_For a moment Steve just holds him close. Then he takes a deep breath. "Are you sure you want to know?"_

_Danny has to think about that a bit. But finally he nods, "Yes. It's you. I know that there are things you can't talk about, things you just can't deal with. Things that would compromise OPSEC. But what you can tell me, I want to know._

_"I do understand why you need to talk to your guys, though. I really do. But you can bring them to the house. I can clear out if you want me to."_

_"No," Steve kisses his head gently, "You don't have to do that. As long as you understand why, it will be ok."_

_"Yeah, I got that." Danny shudders a bit, tears threatening agin. "I got that." Then, "Did he live?"_

_Steve nods, "Chief? Yes. Kept the leg and everything."_

_"Well that's something. Did anybody survive?"_

_"What, from the village?: Steve tilts his head and looks down at him, questioning._

_"Yeah."_

_"No." Steve takes a deep breath. "No. They didn't. The Taliban killed every single one of them."_

_"Why"" Danny looks up, his eyes wet and horrified._

_"I wish I knew, Danno. I really wish I knew."_

_Notes:_

The American flag on the uniforms of our soldiers is worn with the stars backwards from what we are used to seeing. That is because the stars are worn closest to their hearts.

The plane is an FA-18 Super Hornet.

The logo on the BDUs is a stylized version of the Punisher. The Punisher is a cartoon character who displenses justice.

OPSEC = Operational Security.

Helmet Camera video for the actual fight exists. I have seen it. You do not want to. Trust me.

The war is not over. Our troops are still in Afghanistan and elsewhere around the globe. Please do not forget or abandon them. They have recently had their meals cut from three to two a day. It is our job to step up. There are several reputable agencies and charities you can go though. Soldier's Angels, and anysoldier.com are good. My favorite is 3minutesout.org. Please, help these brave men and women who are fighting for us.

Finally, some of the men in this story are heroes. And not here in the story. the SEALs that he meets and works with lived, and died for our nation. I wanted to pay just a small tribute to them. Fair winds and following seas, Sailors. Til we meet again.


	2. No Way Out but Through

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> "Only those close to me can see the scars from seeing good men take their last breath." -- Ty Carter
> 
> Steve learns to tell his tales.
> 
> Dedicated to Tkeyla, Kaige68, and Haldor, who gave me hope that I could possible write again, after a long time. Without them, I don't know how I would have survived this summer.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I hadn't thought to add to this, mostly because it was already so grim. But then some things happened. I had some deaths in the family. The Bee is going to college. And one of my dear friends was killed in Afghanistan. So, here you go.
> 
> This isn't for everyone. In fact, I'd be surprised if more than a few people read it. But I hope that some of you do, and understand what I'm trying to say. I don't know what I said it very well, but at least I tried. That's worth something, right?

_She's about six, and she's holding the grenade out to him. She's saying something in Pashtun, but all he can see is the grenade. She's pointing towards a man across the street, who is holding the pin. Only here, in his dreams, it looks kind of like a key.  
  
He's shaking his head and screaming, but nothing comes out. There's nothing he can do. They're all going to die because some guy values blood over the life of his own child.  
  
He reaches for her, but he can't quite reach her. Ever. He wants to hold her while they die. To at least give her that small comfort. But she is always just out of his reach. He can't get to her. And seconds tick by. The frag is going to explode any second now. And he can't reach her. Can't give her that small bit of comfort._  
  
"How often do the dreams come, Commander?"  
  
Steve starts out of the slight trance he's been in. "Oh, every three, four nights. Not always."  
  
"Does the grenade ever go off?"  
  
"No." He shakes his head. "I wish it would, though. Then it would be over. The really bad thing is seeing her with it and not being able to get it from her before it goes off."  
  
"How about you? You're not afraid of dying?" The doctor looks at him, tilting her head a bit. Her eyes are gentle, concerned. She cares.  
  
"No." Steve shakes his head, and looks back at her for a moment, then lowers his eyes again. "No. My death isn't a big deal. Everybody dies. The one reason I would be unhappy with it is that others would be sad. And in my dreams, I'm back in Ghazni, and there's only my brothers who would really care, as far as I'm concerned.  
  
"In real life, it wasn't quite that way. There were people who would have cared a lot. But I didn't really know that, then."  
  
"Why wouldn't your death be a big deal? Most people aren't in a hurry to die." She wrinkles her brow a bit, as though not quite understanding what he's saying. He suspects that she isn't. But then, it's not easy to explain it, either.  
  
"I'm not in a hurry to die. I wasn't in a hurry to die then. But you have to understand that when you live the way we do, death is right around the corner. Every single minute. And it doesn't have to be in combat, either. You can die in training. Hell, you can die because you're getting married. We almost did CK in that one time. If I hadn't been able to get the IV in..." He smiles fondly, and the doctor gets an even more anxious look on her face. Somehow he just knows that they'll be revisiting _that_ story sometime down the road.  
  
"So death is something that you live with every day? Doesn't that bother you?"  
  
"Why would it?"  
  
"Most people don't want death to be a part of their daily lives." She coughs, "Even soldiers."  
  
Steve looks at her closely. "Ma'am, you've never been to war."  
  
****************  
  
And that's what it comes down to, in the end. People who have never been to war, no matter how well meaning, don't know what it means to live on that edge. Adrenaline junkie jokes aside, the truth is that you couldn't do it if you didn't have a great deal of emotion involved. You don't feel more alive. You feel just as exhausted, filthy, cold, hungry, sore, and grumpy as hell as anybody would. The difference is that what you're doing means enough to keep you doing it.  
  
You do it for love. For the people behind you, and the men on either side of you. You do it for the Brotherhood. Because you love your brothers with everything in you. Because they are a part of you.  
  
You do it for love. Nothing else would even begin to make it worth it.  
  
But there are prices to pay. He always knew that there would be; he just didn't know how high they would be. People tried to tell him, naturally, but it's one of those things you have to experience for yourself in order to understand.  
  
So when Danny keeps waking him up in the middle of the night because, despite the feeling in his dreams that he's unable to cry out, he's actually been screaming in Pashtun, he honestly doesn't know what to say. How do you explain this one? How do you tell him that what you went through was horrible beyond words, but that it was worth it, and you'd do it again in a heartbeat?  
  
You don't. But you can try. So he does. He starts at the beginning, even though this is the last thing he wants to talk about. Even though it's hard to get the words out. Danny deserves the truth.  
  
"We were in Ghazni. A regular door-kicker mission. Looking for drugs, explosives, weapons caches...the usual. We were across the street from a cheap-ass grocery store when a little girl came towards us. She was around six, maybe. Seven. She had a grenade in her hands, and was holding it out to us. She was saying that her Papa had told her to give it to us.  
  
"I looked across the street and there he was, the bastard. He had this look on his face of utter pride, like he had accomplished something truly great at that moment.  
  
"His own daughter."  
  
He breaks off for a moment, and Danny doesn't speak, just holds him closer. In spite of the fact that he stinks from the fear-sweat of the dream, and the slimy feel of it makes him feel disgusted with himself, he settles into Danny's arms and relaxes a little.  
  
"In my dream, I'm always trying to get to her, to help her, or just hold her. Something. But I can't ever reach her. She's just always a little too far away.  
  
"In reality, I got her, took the grenade out of her hands. I threw it back at dear old Dad. The stupid thing went off about a second after I threw it. That's why I have all the interesting scars in my back that you like to play with sometimes. My body armor protected most of me, but some of it got through. I had my legs tucked under me, and my butt was facing away from the blast, otherwise I might not have anything else for you to play with."  
  
Finally, Danny speaks, gently stroking his hair while he does it. "What happened to the girl?"  
  
"She died. I tried to pull her under me, but she didn't have any armor to protect her like I did. They evacuated her, but she died a couple of days later. I did the best I could, but it was't enough. She was so small."  
  
He can feel Danny nodding knows that Danny wants to tell him that it's ok, but it isn't, and Danny will never try to tell him otherwise. "What happened to dear old Dad?"  
  
Steve stiffens a bit, then forces himself to relax. "Axe killed him."  
  
Danny doesn't ask any more. He knows better. Eventually they both get up, shower, and change the sheets, then go out and sleep the rest of the night on the lanai, with the sweet, cool ocean breezes rushing across their skin, washing away the memories of a hot, desolate country where Steve spent way too much time.  
  
****************  
  
"Tell me about Mikey," the doctor says.  
  
"He died." Steve looks down, and his voice fades.  
  
"I know. You've told me that before. I wanted you to tell me how he died. Were you there?"  
  
"Yes. Do I have to talk about this?"  
  
She swallows, and takes a breath. "Since it's one of your most prevalent nightmares, and the flashbacks have been coming more and more frequently, I think it would be a good idea if you did."  
  
Steve rolls his head back and stares at the ceiling. "Ok. Just...ok."  
  
 _Steve hates Ramadi.  
  
The September night is incredibly hot, and his body armor is miserable. The place stinks to high heaven. There's raw sewage in the streets, and bloated bodies of dead cats and dogs here and there. Once, he thought he saw a donkey corpse, but it could just have been resting. It's 120 out, and that's with a nice breeze. They had something the Navy likes to call _ Chicken A La King _for dinner. He's not sure what was in it, but he is fairly sure that there was no actual chicken involved.  
  
Steve really, really _ hates _Ramadi.  
  
Mikey is on his left, and Pine is on his right. The three of them have seen a couple of terrorists come this way, and have taken some fire. They have four Iraqi Army Soldiers with them. Good guys, all of them. He trusts them, in a way he doesn't trust the Police in the area. He's glad he doesn't have to deal with the MPs, the way some of his friends do.  
  
His AK-47 is hot and slippery, and his gloves stick to it sometimes. It's not a problem, but it's a definite nuisance. Man he's glad he isn't carrying the heavy machine gun like Mikey.  
  
There's movement up ahead, and he looks at Mikey. Mikey nods, and the two of them begin to run. Pine follows, calling for the Iraqis to come with. "Stop, drop your weapons!" Steve's Arabic isn't perfect, but it should be enough to get the point across. "Drop to the ground, hands behind your head!"  
  
Steve knows that they won't listen, because they never do. The moment takes on a kind of surreal feeling as he lifts his gun and fires. He can feel bullets go whipping by, inches from his body. He doesn't stop moving forward, and one of the men ahead falls, and doesn't move again.  
  
Steve runs past him, rushing towards the second man, when a third steps out of the dark and starts shooting. Steve takes a hit to his armor, and falls. Mikey goes running past, shooting in the quick, precise manner that he has. Mikey is a damn good shot. The man falls.  
  
Steve gets his breath and stands up, patting his armor absentmindedly. He looks over at the third terrorist, who has been dealt with by one of the Iraqi soldiers. He walks kind of stiffly over to the man. "Good shooting," he says. The man smiles at him. "You, too."  
  
He can speak English to the soldier--Mo, they call him, though that isn't anywhere near his name. Mo knows English, French, German, Chinese, and Russian. He was educated at Harvard and the Sorbonne. He came home when the US invaded because he wanted to help to free his homeland. He is a Kurd, and therefore isn't that popular with the Sunni or Shi'a population. But Steve loves him.  
  
He reaches over and pats Mikey's back. "Way to go, Tex. Good job."  
  
Mikey glares at him. "Really?" Steve smiles and laughs softly. Mikey rolls his eyes and looks around. Mikey is a proud California boy.  
  
"What now, LT?" He asks.  
  
"See that roof over there?" Steve points to a staircase leading up to a roof on a house close by.  
  
"Yeah."  
  
"We'd better get up there and see what we can see. I have a feeling that we don't have a great deal of time here before the AQ boys come running."  
  
Mikey nods, "I'll just see if I can get some ID off of these guys, ok?"  
  
"Yeah, watch your step." Steve, Pine, and Mo head towards the roof. In the distance, he can hear the local mosque calling all the faithful to come and kill the infidels. There is smoke in the air. It's just another thing he hates about Ramadi. There is always smoke in the air.  
  
As they get to the rooftop, he can see where the previous occupants stored their bedrolls. The Iraqis sleep as high up as possible in hopes of catching some kind of breeze, and beating some of the heat. Steve doesn't think that it works that well, and wishes frequently that he was home, where he could catch a real breeze, and ride some waves, instead of riding all this sand.  
  
He hates sand.  
  
The shooting starts immediately. They take what cover they can, and begin firing back, choosing their targets carefully, conserving ammunition, and making each shot count. There are probably over 50 men out there with guns, and they're all firing away.  
  
He never knows exactly what happened. He hears Mikey yell something, but isn't sure what. It's too loud. The next thing he knows, he's rolling on the rooftop, pain running like fire up his legs and arms. His helmet is sliding down the roof towards the terrorists, and he can't hear.  
  
All he is aware of is his own breathing, as he pulls himself to his feet and heads towards Mikey. Mikey who is laying so still on the roof. Mikey who is looking at him with a look of utter and complete love. Mikey, who is dying._  
  
"He took 30 minutes to die," Steve says. "Longest 30 minutes of my life. Pine had already called for an evacuation. We knew we were outnumbered and were going to have to get out of there. The helo came moments later, and the QRF showed up right after that. If we'd have been able to hold on for just a minute or two longer, it would have been ok. But that RPG... Mikey..." His voice breaks, and he has to be still and take control of himself for a moment.  
  
"Mikey," she prompts.  
  
"Somebody shot an RPG at us. It hit Mikey in the chest. He yelled out to us, but we couldn't hear. So he threw himself on the grenade.  
  
"He could have escaped. He was the only one who could have. He was right there at the top of the stairs. Two steps and he'd have been safe. But he...instead, he... For us.  
  
"I held him while he died. He was torn up everywhere. He shouldn't have been alive. He really shouldn't have been. There was no way... I packed his wounds with everything I had. Took off my armor and stuffed my shirt in there. It didn't help. I was covered in blood. It was dripping from my chest.  
  
"He never screamed. The pain must have been horrible. But he never cried out. He just looked at me such love in his eyes. I never knew somebody could love like that. I never knew..."  
  
There is a silence for a moment, as she allows him to breathe deep for a moment, and then continue. "My family wasn't religious, you know? But you can't live in America without hearing that scripture, the one about there being no greater love?"  
  
She nods, and he continues. "I didn't know it was true. I didn't know it really existed. I didn't...How could he just  _do_  that? What kind of man just  _dies_  for people without even thinking about it? He...I loved him so much. I will always love him so much.  
  
 _"I wish it had been me."_  
  
And there it is, in stark reality. "Mikey was too good to die. The world needed him. Mikey made it all a better place. You know he got the Silver Star in the first 30 days of his first deployment? Nobody does that. Nobody but Mikey.  
  
"Hell, he'd have had the Navy Cross in another six months, and we'd have all nominated him for it. He deserved it. But he didn't deserve to die."  
  
"And the others?"  
  
"Pine lived. Like me, he was damaged. But he survived, and got back into the fight about six months later. Mo and the other Iraqi soldiers lived, but al Qaeda found them all about a month later. Killed them and their families. Mo had just gotten married. His wife was pregnant. She was so beautiful..."  
  
****************  
  
The dreams become staples of their lives. Sometimes he screams out in Pashtun, sometimes Arabic, sometimes incoherent English.  
  
Sometimes he doesn't scream at all, just cries like a man who cannot mourn his dead, but needs to.  
  
Danny holds him, and comforts him. Tries to love him through it. But nothing helps. It's just getting worse.  
  
 _It starts when an old friend came to visit. A friend who had been with Steve through both Iraq and Afghanistan. Pine had been one of his best friends--still is. And Steve is excited to talk to him. They invite the family over, eat huge amounts of good food, and talk. They drink a little too much, but it's allowed. And Steve and Pine regale them with stories. Good stories.  
  
Danny's favorite has to be the one about the irrigation ditch.  
  
"So LT here, is leadin' us on a door kicker in Afghanistan," Pine starts. "And we're headin' across this field towards this house that we've been told is a hideout for drug runners, who might also be specializin' in IEDs--those are Improvised Explosive Devices for those of y'all who aren't familiar with the term." His broad Alabama accent is sweet and fun, and the atmosphere is light. Kono shifts in her seat and leans closer. Danny smiles, and settles into Steve's arms a bit more.  
  
"So in order for your NVGs--that's night vision goggles--to work, you have to have some kind of ambient light. And there is no light out there at all. It's pitch black. No moon, and no electric light at all. Nothin'. Nada.  
  
"And Chris is in front. He's the point man. LT here is behind him." He points at Steve, whom he has called LT from the moment he arrived. Apparently, it's what Steve is called in the SEALs.  
  
"And suddenly, Chris starts dancin' up ahead. And I mean dancin'. Like something you'd see in a martial arts movie or something. It's like nothin' you've ever seen before. He's doin' moves that are against the laws of nature.  
  
"We all pile up behind LT here, who is tryin' desperately to keep a lid on things, but can't. We've got some low lightin' that allows us to see each other if we're close up, but nothin' else. So we don't have a clue what is goin' on until we all bump into each other. I knocked LT here down, and he didn't even notice. He just started rollin' around, making this kind of wheezin' noise."  
  
Pine looked at Steve and grinned, "It was something to behold, that's for sure."  
  
Steve rolled his eyes and shook his head. "Get on with it, Chief."  
  
Pine laughed, "Yes Sir.  
  
"I was quite taken with LT here, rollin' around as he was, so I didn't notice Chris doin' his thing for a moment. But when I did, it was impossible to un-see it. He was defying the laws of gravity, throwin' his body this way or that, doin' that crane thing from that movie about that kid. I swear he was doin' it just the way they showed it in the movie.  
  
"And this goes on for at least a minute. None of us can talk we're so busy laughing at him. And we're less than 100 yards from the house we're supposed to be takin' on!  
  
"Finally, I figure out what's happened.  
  
"See you have to be careful where you step in Afghanistan and Iraq. They have these communal facilities, and unless you know where you're goin', you're bound to step in them. And that ain't a pretty thing for nobody to have to live through, let me tell you. LT can tell you about that one."  
  
Steve looks at him and glares. "Go on."  
  
Pine just looks at Steve a bit smugly, and takes his time. "When Chris came over the hill like, to the point where he could see the house below, he took a step, and felt liquid of some kind on his boot. And Chris wasn't goin' to end up like LT here--who somehow ended up standin' waist-deep in shit, with his gun above his head, sayin' 'Well, at least my gun is dry.'  
  
"LT wasn't too happy about that particular event, and spent the rest of the whole mission sulking. We had to pay one of the interpreters to stand by him, and keep watch over him while we did the job. Couldn't pay the same guy enough to sit by the LT here on the way back to base, though. We voted to make him walk, but he threatened to have us shot."  
  
Steve narrows his eyes even more, as the group has a good laugh at his expense. "Chief," he says menacingly.  
  
"Ok, ok. So Chris feels this liquid on his boot, and he decides that he's not goin' to end up like the LT here did. And he starts dancin' like crazy. Trying to save himself. For a whole minute, I swear. He's up there makin' physical configurations that aren't actually possible. It was like somethin' out of _ The Matrix _. I'm serious.  
  
"Finally, though, gravity has its way with him, and he falls. Face first. Into an irrigation ditch.  
  
"He comes up a sputterin' and splashin', and swearin'.  And he climbs out of the ditch and comes stalkin' over to the LT here. You can tell he's just achin' to say somethin', but he can't. He's too much of a professional. So he thinks about it for a moment, while he watches LT here roll about on the ground. Then he takes his gun and holds it up over LT and lets all the water in it come down. And that heavy machine gun can hold a lot of water.  
  
"We had to close it up for the night and go home. 'Cause there was no workin' after that."_  
  
It is a delight. A precious moment for Danny and the team to get to know Steve as he had been for so many years before they met him; the SEAL, not the Cop he is learning how to be. And after Pine leaves, everything seems fine for a couple of days. But then the nightmares begin. And the fugue states where Steve sits and stares at the water outside, not moving or speaking until Danny grabs him and shakes him hard.  
  
Danny can feel Steve drifting into a world of shadows, filled with too many horrors, too may sorrows. Too much suffering.  
  
As they're making love one night, while Danny gasps and holds him close, feeling the sweet stretch and the incredible hardness inside him, lifting his body into Steve's thrusts and moaning as he does, he notices that Steve's eyes are unfocused, and that while Steve's body is there with him, bringing them both towards climax, Steve himself is slipping away. That's the night he tells him that he has to get some help. Because this will kill them both otherwise.  
  
****************  
  
"What do you want out of this?" The doctor looks at him gently. "What is your ultimate goal?"  
  
Steve shudders a bit. "I want to stop dreaming about things I can't change. I don't want to see little girls who are carrying grenades in their hands. I don't want to see men die in my arms. I don't want to see friends who...Friends."  
  
He stops, unable to carry on for a moment.  
  
"Friends?" she prompts.  
  
"Yeah. Friends. Who never came home."  
  
 _His last memory of JT is of running with him the night before Steve heads for Korea. The two of them are inveterate runners, and the others leave them alone, understanding that for the two of them it is a time to just be. To connect with the earth and sky and their own bodies.  
  
They talk sometimes, but not frequently. Mostly there is just the sound of their harsh breathing, and their feet on the hard ground. It is peaceful. Sometimes it's the only peace they get.  
  
Steve's platoon is heading out the next morning. They've got intel that one of the Hesse brothers is in North Korea. They've been chasing the Hesse boys for five years now, trying to put an end to the drug trade between Afghanistan and the US that the Hesse brothers have been making a ton of money off of. It is important that they deal with them. Important for both the Afghani people, and the American kids that they sell their heroin to.  
  
They know full well that there is a good chance that they will not see each other again. But they don't speak of it. There's no use in it. Both JT and Steve have long accepted the fact that 120 of their brothers have died since the start of this war, and more blood will be required. Some of it may be theirs. But that's the Team for you. She is a jealous bitch, and she requires everything of you. Everything.  
  
He and JT run, for miles and miles. They never speak. They don't have to. Brothers to the bone, they know exactly what the other is thinking. And they both know that while Steve is in Korea, JT will be praying hard for him, even though at this point he's not sure how much he believes in God. It's hard to believe too much when you see what they've seen.  
  
And Steve will be doing the same for JT.  
  
It is a good night. One of the best. One of the last.  
  
It goes insane less than a week later. JT and 29 other brothers are shot down a year later._  
  
The doctor looks at him gently, "I can't make it all go away. You know that."  
  
"Then why am I here?"  
  
"Because I can give you the tools to help yourself. You will never forget what you've seen and done. That is beyond my capability, and yours as well. But you can heal. Do you see this?" She lifts up a black and white image printed on a piece of heavy paper. It is an image of his brain.  
  
"Yeah." He nods.  
  
"And did Dr. Kalea explain what the dark spots are?"  
  
"Yeah. It's brain damage. From where I got thrown out of the Humvee when we ran over an IED. Traumatic Brain Injury."  
  
"Yes. And the white spots?"  
  
He swallows, then takes a deep breath. "That's the PTSD."  
  
"Yes. Yes it is. And both of them can be overcome. Your brain is plastic. It can find new ways of thinking. Create new neural pathways. It can heal itself after horrible injuries. My job is to teach you how to do that. Are you ready?"  
  
Steve takes in a deep breath, then lets it out slowly. "Yes. I'm ready."  
  
"Good," she says. "Here's how we're going to do this."  
  
****************  
  
He walks out of the clinic to where Danny is waiting in the car. He climbs into the passenger seat, leans over, and kisses him. "I think she can help. She's got some good ideas."  
  
"Yeah? Is one of them lots and lots of sex?"  
  
Steve laughs in surprise, then nods. "Actually, one of them is."  
  
Danny smiles a bit smugly. "Well, I think we can deal with that." He turns the key, starts the car and takes them home.  
  
 _He's standing on that rooftop in Ramadi. There, just by the staircase is where Mikey died. But, even though the sun is sinking blood-red behind the horizon. Even though the smoke still fills the sky. Even though the call of the Imam still rings through the air. Mikey is standing, not laying in a heap. He holds the hand of a little girl. She is small, cute, and most definitely not Iraqi. She is Pashti.  
  
Behind the two of them stands Mo, his head held high. A big cheesy grin is on his handsome face. Next to him stands his wife. She is beautiful, as always.  
  
There are others. So many others. JT, Jason, Heath, Danny, Murph, Axe, Marc...  
  
Mikey walks to him and takes his hand. "It's ok, LT. We're here if you need us."_  
  
He wakes, weeping. Danny holds him until he can sleep again.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Notes will take an entire chapter on their own. Feel free to read them or not as you choose. They may help to explain some of the things that happen. But I have tried to make it so that they're not necessary.


	3. Notes for Chapter 2

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Here they are. Read them if you want more information. Don't bother otherwise.

1\. Twenty-two veterans will commit suicide today. We will lose more veterans by suicide than we will in combat.  
  
2\. Both the Taliban and al Qaeda have been known to use women and children to deliver grenades to the soldiers. Sometimes the children are as young as two.  
  
3\. Michael Monsoor gave his life for his brothers in an incredible act of selflessness on September 29, 2006. For that, he was awarded the Congressional Medal of Honor posthumously. The President wept.  
  
He was awarded the Silver Star within his first 30 days in country on his very first deployment. The Silver Star is the Navy's second highest award. The Navy Cross is the second highest honor in the nation. They would have given him the Navy Cross for selflessly running out into the street and pulling a fellow SEAL out of danger, even though there was an incredible amount of cross-fire, except that they felt strongly that they needed to keep the Navy Cross for another occasion, because he would earn it.  
  
They also awarded him the Bronze Star with V for Valor for his work over the summer of 2006, in which he engaged in 36 firefights with his platoon. He was the heavy machine gunner, carrying 60 pounds worth of gun, along with his ruck sack, and armor. It easily added up to 100 pounds, in heat that went as high as 140 degrees. He never once complained. Mikey was special.  
  
4\. Yes, both the Iraqi and Afghani villagers have communal facilities somewhere on the outskirts of the villages. There were several incidents of soldiers falling in. Oops.  
  
5\. The incident at the Irrigation ditch happened. And I laughed until I cried when I heard the story.  
  
6\. The incident with the LT and the sewage happened, too. And he sulked through the entire mission. And they paid an interpreter to stand by him.  
  
7\. Michael Murphy, Danny Dietz, and Matt Axelson died on June 28, 2005 during an ambush in the Hindu Kush. The movie about this incident will be released in December of this year, I think. I would read the book, first.  _Lone Survivor_  is both riveting, and incredibly painful. Make sure you have kleenex with you.  
  
Michael Murphy received the Congressional Medal of Honor for his actions that day. When he saw that there was no way that they could get help by radio, due to the terrain or equipment malfunction, he chose to walk into a clearing to use the Satellite phone, even though he knew it would be the end of his life. He got a call through, and because of it, Marcus Luttrell is alive. I am not sure that Marcus will ever forgive himself for it.  
  
8\. It was standard procedure for al Qaeda in Iraq to kill the men who fought on the American side in order to send a message. And they didn't do it nicely.  
  
9\. Thirty-eight men, and one Military Working Dog were killed when the Taliban shot down their helo on August 6, 2011 as they rushed to the aid of fellow soldiers who were trapped in a firefight. One of them was a man I knew as a teenager. Others are men I have come to know through working with various organizations that provide food and necessities to the troops. These men were the best we had. They are sorely missed. JT Tumilson was a piece of heaven on earth.  
  
They all were.  
  
10\. It's easy to pretend that it's over. It isn't. We have 30,000 troops still in Afghanistan, and our country is edging ever closer to war in Syria. I sometimes feel that it will never, ever end. And I fear that I  may be right.

**Author's Note:**

> These events happened. Of course Steve wasn't there. And I've only put a small bit of what happened in there. 
> 
> On April 10, 2010, a platoon of Marines came to Daneb Passat, and found the entire village had been slaughtered by the Taliban. They got involved in a firefight that turned deadly. They called in the Air Force, who came in and dropped JDAMs on their targets. The Marines were then able to move forward. However, they were soon trapped in another area and had to fight for their lives for over 20 hours.
> 
> This story is the result of me needing to get the things I have seen out of my head. PTSD is real. It is a brain injury caused by immense stress. It's like a traumatic brain injury in a lot of ways.
> 
> I don't have any idea how these men and women survive this. I am so incredibly grateful for the things that they have done for us. Grateful, and amazed that anybody comes home alive.


End file.
